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Class „ 
Book_.... 

Copyright N° 



_ 
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COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



Songs of a Deeper Note 



Songs of a Deeper Note 



BY 



EDMUND CORLIS SHERBURNE 




• , 






BOSTON 

Richard G. Badger 

1904 



Copyright 1904 by E. C. Sherburilfe 

Ah Rights Reserved 



LIBRARY Of CONGRESS 

Two Copies Received 

APR 19 1904 

Copyright Entry 

CLASS <K XXo. No. 

COPY B 






Printed at 

The Gorham Press 

Boston, U. S. A 



CONTENTS 








PAGR 


The Prodigal ... . 11 


The Youth of David . 






26 


Jacob at Bethel . 






31 


The Monk of St. Agnes 






35 


Sabbath Bells 






36 


After a Neighbor's Accident 






37 


If There Had Been No Christ 






38 


The Resurrection 






39 


Gloria in Excelsis 






41 


In Port .... 






42 


The Snow .... 






43 


The Beloved 






44 


The Sailing of the White Swan 






45 


The Child's View of Autumn 






47 


Response ..... 






49 


Be Thou a Song Bird . . 






51 


Cherish the Beautiful . . . 






52 


Autumn Leaves .... 






53 


A Stroll 






54 


To Dr. Pond .... 






54 


At the Sepulchre 






55 


A November Evening 






57 


Dethroned ..... 






58 


Are They Not Ministering Spirit 


5? 




61 


To my Wife . 






62 


In Memoriam — Hosea Doton . 






64 


Charles Henry Vaughan 






68 


Our Country .... 






69 


New England .... 






72 


New England the Land of the Pi 


grim 


s 


73 



Vermont to her Returning Children . 


76 


An Ode 


77 


Dewey at Manilla .... 


78 


The Fame of Washington . 


79 


Boston . . 


80 


At the Manufactory .... 


82 


After an Evening with Longfellow 


84 


America to King Edward VII . 


85 


A Tale 


86 


Restlessness ..... 


90 


School Discipline .... 


92 


How Benjamin Rix Became Governor 


94 


The New Dairying of John Wood 


100 


I Dare the Storm . . . . 


105 



THE PRODIGAL 

£\ ME unhappy, 

How base, how low, how abject my condition ! 
Quick has been my descent, complete my ruin, 
I, like a young and goodly tree, am fallen 
And in the mire and filth am prostrate lying, 
While now my healthy trunk should rise o'ertop- 

ping 
The other trees o'the wood. There, should my 

branches 
Be ever touched by fairest gales from heaven, 
And each day should they grow in grace and 

beauty, 
Wretch that I am ! The swine that I am feed- 
ing 
Are nobler than am I among God's creatures, 
For they were bred in filth, in filth were littered, 
Their instincts base ; their natures are ignoble, 
While I, well born and given a virtuous train- 

n g> 
By mine own folly have begot my ruin, 
By my own vices wrought I my disgraces. 

Hungry I rise from out a fitful slumber, 

And with the food of swine I break my fasting. 



! I 



Filled with the husks, I ever suffer hunger, |( 
A faintness in my fullness most tormenting. 
From out my cave I issue forth at morning, 
Chilled by the damp of night. No mantle have I 
That will enwrap me, and thus gain protection. 
Naked I found the earth, a welcome stranger ; 
A naked outcast now, save the scant garments 
Whose shreds will scarce sustain their filthy burden. 
The torrid sun, shining with fiery splendor, 
Darts his fierce beams, unpitying, upon me, 
While I must watch and tend my mean compan- 
ions, 
Till the day closes and the dews of evening 
Find me upon the mountain, unprotected 
I, like the savage beasts upon the mountain, 
Seek a rude cave for shelter and protection, 
And on the stones, cold, cheerless, and unpity- 
ing, 
Drop my worn self, — my prayer, an impreca- 
tion, 
And fall to sleep, full of strange dreams and 
direful. 

I, whilom, fair and strong as the proud cedar, 
Health in each vein, my muscles strong as iron, 
Now bear the penalty of my excesses, 
Now show the marks of my severe exposures. 
Languid, I rise, at the red sun's dread summons, 
Like a whipped beast, begin a new day's labor, 
Cheered by no sight of living human beings, 
Helped by no tones, tender and sympathizing, 
Instead I hear the grim dread tones of Famine 
Give me my choice, " Labor or else starvation." 
And yet my sick heart shows, my languid body 
Tells me, I shall not long endure this service. 



12 



My shame, my solitude and my exposure 

Will do their work, anon, sure as fell poison. 

One friend I find I have yet unestranged, 

And he'll come close and still more closely to me 

And one day touch my cheek, and ease my sorrows. 

Yet life to me has not been all a burden, 
Many the joys I've had, as I recall them, 
Had many friends, constant, and true and faith- 
ful, 
Passed many years in peace, almost halcyon. 
My childhood's home ! It seems almost enchanted, 
As from this distance, I behold its outline. 
Fond hearts were there ready to give me wel- 
come 
With my first cry for home, and for protection, 
A mother's lips oft touched my cheeks with 

kisses, 
A father led, and gave me goodly counsel, 
There never knew I of the pangs of hunger, 
No lack had I of good and comely raiment, 
And when the fierce storms raged, and flashed the 

lightning, 
A friendly roof was near to give protection, 
And when aweary with my easy service 
Found there a place of rest, O how delightful ! 

My native land ! No land I've found so lovely, 
Though I have travelled to a distant country. 
Nowhere the sky so blue, the air so balmy, 
So calm the vales, so high and bold the moun- 
tains, 
Nowhere so clear the brooks, so pure the waters, 



i3 



Her fields were wont to wave with bounteous har- 
vests, 
And peaceful flocks and herds graze in the past- 
ures, 
The servant labored with his master, cheerful, 
The wealthy master grew not an oppressor. 
There humble homes were often crowned with plen- 
And happy children smiled around the hearth- 
stone. 

The rulers judged the people, well and wisely, 
Their laws were firm, but fashioned to deal justice, 
There God was honored as the Great Creator, 
Ruler and Sovereign of all His people. 
His righteous Will they knew, and knowing, 

heeded, 
Happy that land where all was peace and comfort, 
Happy that land for God was with His people. 

Within that land where the mean man had plenty, 

And all could gather round their homes and fire- 
sides, 

In wealth my father lived, and in distinction, 

Loved by his neighbors, honored in the nation. 

His servants kept his flocks and dressed his vine- 
yards 

With a kind word and liberal wages paid them. 

His children grew around him, bright and happy. 

Indulgent ever to their proper wishes 

And when he governed looked to their advan- 
tage, 

Was never rash, unfeeling or exacting. 

In such a home, my childhood years flew swiftly 
And soon I entered through the door to man 
hood. 

14 



Fair was the prospect, that then oped before me. 
Position, wealth, ease, luxury, and honor 
I could have grasped, almost without an effort 
And with due wisdom might have always worn 

them. 
Trained by my father, though by nature wayward, 
I was regarded as a youth of promise. 
Liberal and frank and free and courteous, ever 
.1 was the center of the social circle, 
And whom I would, those made my companions, 
And there were those with whom I took sweet 

counsel. 

Now the scene changes, and my Summer morn- 
ing 
Shot through the Autumn to an early Winter. 
My radiant sun before it reached the zenith 
Fell like a meteor and went out in darkness. 
(My sin and shame stand ever out before me 
And add more gall unto my cup of sorrow 
I drink the draught and add tears to the potion.) 
Though I was prosperous and my future hopeful 
And walked an easy road leading to Fortune 
I grew aweary with familiar duties. 

My means were smaller far than my ambition, 

I sought for room whereby I might expand them 

And wished to build a fortune large and princely. 

I felt my father cramped me with his counsel ; 

I saw a weakness, only in his caution 

And in my folly thought him in his dotage ; 

I thought that if I had my equal portion 

With none to caution, no one to g ive me counsel 



I might as far surpass, in wealth, my. father 
As he had gone beyond his meanest hireling. 

One summer's eve, (My father in his arbor, 
His prized resort for rest and meditation,) 
Sat in the doorway ; from the west o'erlooking 
His vineyards, now heavy with luscious fruitage, 
He saw his barns bursting with their abundance ; 
Upon the hills he saw his numerous cattle ; 
He thought of all his wealth and all his honors 
How God had led him, and dealt gently with 

him, 
Then blessed he God, and vowed continued service, 

Intent upon the schemes of my ambition, 
I sought my father to make known my wishes. 
I saw him with his hoary head uncovered, 
His flowing beard down reaching to his bosom. 
I met his gentle gaze with love benignant 
And like a guilty thing, preferred my purpose, 
I told him all of my enlarged ambition, 
Spoke of my narrow and confined condition, 
Spoke of the wonders others had accomplished, 
While I to them in no way was inferior. 
I wanted nothing but my proper portion 
To show him what a young man could accom- 
plish. 

My father chid me gently in his answer, 
Told me my project was a youthful fancy, 
My scheme was wild, chimerical and dangerous 
And granted, would destroy our mutual comfort. 
"Stay," said he, "in the land of thine abundance 
Where friends will add a zest to thine enjoyment. 
Better a moderate portion safely funded, 
Than triple wealth uncertain of attainment. 



16 



Those who in haste have vaulted into fortune 
Have been like comets ; only seen but rarely, 
And when they rise they claim our gaze with won- 
der ; 
But as the comet with his train of splendor 
May for a while outshine his mild eyed sisters, 
They will burn on and on in even luster, 
Ages on ages while he lies forgotten. 
So may those men who haste to bear distinction 
Daze for a while the young and simple minded, 
With showy schemes and with deceptive splendor, 
Look for their lights to cease ; while modest merit 
Will shine with even and increasing brilliance. 
I would not have thee go, for there are dangers 
That would beset thee in thy undertaking 
More dreadful than the loss of all thy fortune, 
I'd fear it far more than thy body's safety, 
E'en though thy course led through the Arab's 

country 
Or thou wert perilled on the boistrous ocean, 
There is a treasure, Son, there is a treasure 
Compared with which gold is a filthy substance, 
I joy to think thou yet hast that possession, 
A heart love loyal to thy great Creator. 
A mind unsullied in its native virtue. 
But in that land where thou dost wish to tarry 
The true God is not known and worshipped, 
And there the vices that should make thee shudder 
Will be so common as to scarce be noticed, 
And would pollute thee like the plague by contact, 
Whilst thou removed from all thy home restric- 
tions 
And full intent upon thy reckless scheming 
Wouldst blindly rush into alarming dangers, 



i7 



Till thou wouldst fall some day, lest Heaven fore- 
fend it 
And find complete and absolute thy ruin. 
I pray thee think no further on thy project, 
But bide here in thy home and with thy people. 
Here is a field suited to thine ambition 
If thou appliest it in the proper channel, 
Ere long the fruit will fall that thou desirest, 
But if thou pluckest it now, thou'lt take it unripe, 
Stay a few years to be my staff and comfort, 
Stay a few years for thine own weal and welfare, 
Stay a few years for God's sake and the nation's, 
And when I die thou'lt find thy portion greater 
By being coupled with a father's blessing." 

I know not I what hateful demon seized me 
And of my reason took complete possession, 
I wanted nothing of my father's counsel, 
I listened to it with suppressed impatience, 
My spirit chafed me from his mild suggestions, 
My voice was husky with my deep emotions 
As I replied : " I've sought, Sir, your permission 
To do what I shall do though you refuse me, 
My mind shall be, henceforth, my only sovereign, 
And I shall heed it, Sir, in its dictation 
Before your God's or your own proper counsel. 
Thou mayest refuse that which to me belongest 
And give it my staid brother if thou wiliest — 
I'll be no beggar for a mess of pottage — 
But I shall go, Sir, with a mind untrammelled — 
Remember wilt thou my prophetic statement? — 
To happier lands and to a life of pleasure." 
I turned and stalked away, big with importance, 
My father did not speak, I thought him silenced 
And gloried in it as a happy omen. 



18 



Then came the hurried days of preparation 

For I was spurred on by a mad ambition, 

My pride ran high as billows after tempests, 

I lost no time in keeping my rash purpose 

And on the third day started on my journey. 

I left my home without a tender feeling, — 

The fields, the vineyards, and the old time mansion 

Awoke in me no train of recollection 

When for the last time I did gaze upon them, 

With faithful friends I shed no tears at parting 

Nor did I bid adieu to those held dearest. 

As doth the lightning from the unclouded heavens 
Descend to earth without a previous warning 
And striking lays the gnarled old oak prostrate 
So did my words, since coming unexpected 
Fall with a heavy blow upon my father 
And reft him near of life. At length recovering 
He learned from friends my settled purpose, 
Wailed a long wail; one for the dead befitting. 
"Alas ! My sun goes clouded to its setting 
When I had hoped a peaceful quiet evening 
Now am I by my God severe afflicted ; 
I know no greater trial for a father, 
I should have wept warm tears, for they were fit- 
ting 
Had death been agent in our separation, 
But now he'll seek his grave through much of 

suffering, 
Shame and contempt in heaps will lie upon him,g§ 
In death his body will be food for ravens, — 
But no ; he'll think of home in his dejection, 
And reft of pride and of his mad ambition 
Will come anon seeking some small protection. 
Then will I grasp him with a hearty welcome 



i9 



And he shall feel that I forgive him freely. 

I cannot see him now; 'tis well I do not" 

But I would have thee haste to the exchangers, 

Collect these dues ! 'twill be a fine large fortune, 

And bear it to my son and bid him take it. 

He asked me for his portion ; He shall have it, 

I would that he would use it most discreetly, 

But do not tell him so 'twould but enrage him. 

This only say as thou dost give the money 

Thy father sends the portion thou desirest 

And with it sends a father's true affection, 

Go if he must and Heaven attend his journeyings. 

How easy is it when the mind is evil 

To enter upon schemes of wild delusion 

The sinful mind finds, ever, means of sinning, 

The reckless soul runs to its own undoing 

With freedom as the river to the ocean, — 

Now there was in our native village camping 

A caravan of merchants, who were travelling 

With a long train of horses and of camels, 

Laden with costly goods to Alexandria. 

I sought the chief and easy gained permission 

To join the train and travel with it onward. 

Upon the morrow just ere our departure 

Elisima, my father's servant, met me, 

Took me aside and showed me my possessions ; 

Ten thousand shekels, had my father sent me 

In gold, beside he gave the laden camel, 

A faithful servant also who should guide him 

And give his labor for my needful service. 

How my heart bounded as I knew my fortune, 

What thoughts of greatness took fast hold upon me 

I felt that I had wrought a great achievemeut 



20 



And thought the omens fair and most propitious. 
Now might I travel as became my station, 
N"ow had I chance to show my haughty spirit, 
Now might I traffic without let or hinderance. 

Within our train were men of many nations, 

Egyptian, Syrian, Roman, Ethiopian, 

Many had wealth and bore signs of distinction 

In costly robes, with steeds of golden trappings. 

I would not travel with a lesser splendor 

Than any of my wealthy, proud companions. 

My horse, I chose him for his noble bearing, 

His haughty step, his wide dilating nostrils, 

His eye of fire, his arched neck of thunder. 

I spared no pains nor cost upon his trappings 

And had them wrought in gold and set with jewels. 

My homely robes I doffed for gay apparel 

For finest linen and for royal purple 

'Broidered with silk and blue and gold and purple. 

Princely I looked as I bestrid my charger, 

Princely I felt, and, like a mighty leader, 

My gold I lavished with as liberal freedom 

As if my fortune was to be replenished 

By an extensive province tributary, — 

We journeyed; and I felt I grew in favor 

With all the proudest spirits in our party, 

I liked their ways and I enjoyed their customs, 

So different from the staid old Jewish notions 

Where all were hampered by their stern religion. 

We feasted on choice viands as we travelled, 

We drank the best of wines in golden goblets 

And told our tales of love and of adventure 

And spent our nights in music and in dalliance. 

Thus in due time we reached our destination 

And rode with pride into the far famed city, 

Then came our halt, and then our separation. 



21 



Within an inn I now took up my lodgings. 
And made me friends by scattering money freely, 
My days and nights I gave them up to pleasure, 
To what would please the eye, or charm the senses, 
And lived a gay and wild voluptuary. 

As are the forest trees with foliage laden 

Soon rendered bare by frosts and storms of 

Autumn 
And as the lake though broad and deep the waters 
Is quickly emptied by a mighty channel, 
So passed from me my good and large possessions 
Through the large channel of my dissipation, 
And soon I reached my very latest shekel, 
I sold my camel, and I spent the proceeds, 
I pawned my horse but never could redeem him, 
I gambled with my robes and with my jewels 
With varying fortune ; but in the end I lost them. 
Then was I driven amid much jeer and cursing 
From all my former haunts of dissipation 
As if I was a vile and filthy being. 
I walked the streets, no eye did smile upon me, 
I saw good homes but no door for me opened, 
And in the streets I made my first encampment. 
I saw the stars shine clear and cold from heaven 
As if they saw me not, or not regarded, 
I felt there was no heart of love above me, 
In man no tenderness, and no compassion. 
I reasoned thus : " Why lie I here and famish 
When there is wealth and plenty all around me, 
The selfish world will let me die of hunger. 
Why not or rob or steal and live in comfort ? 
None care for me, why should I care for others ? 
The rich will let me die ere give a penny, 
What if I slay the rich and live in fullness 
I thought ; and quick my plan had executed 



22 



Had not a power above kept me from murder. 
I saw a merchant, He was travelling homeward 
I knew his gains were large by land and ocean 
I bade him give his fortune for his ransom, 
I vowed him death upon his least resistance, 
When lo ! a soldier passing by beheld us, 
Seized me, and hurried me in haste to prison. 
For weeks I languished in a dreary dungeon 
And bore my sufferings with a sullen spirit. 
Then came release, but through the bastinado 
And banishment in shame far from the city. 

For days I travelled like the veriest beggar, 
Aimless and purposeless I cared not whither, 
The lands I entered grew more wild and barren, 
More wild and rude and savage were the people. 
At length the fruitage failed me by the wayside, 
Nor by my pleadings could I gain a morsel, 
Then sought I work, (for hunger made me urgent,) 
To pay for aught to satisfy my cravings, 
But there the servant was not greatly needed 
Or else they doubted of my honest purpose. 
Famished, at length I came across the swine-herd, 
Begged for some labor, though at merest pittance, 
And was assigned to this my mean employment. 

Is this the fair land of my eager fancy ? 
Am I the youth with fortune disaffected 
Within a home where all was peace and fullness? 
Am I the son reared with a careful guidance, 
The pride and hope of an indulgent father ? 
Alas ! Alas ! How great is my declension, 
My pride and folly have complete undone me, 
And I shall die a guilty wretched being. 



2 3 



God's ways are just ; and he who scorns H«is coun- 
sel 
Shall reap ere long the fruit of his deservings, 
We may reject Him, when we hear Him speaking, 
And seek to flee away, far from His presence 
But He will follow us in all our wanderings 
And punish us for every sin committed, 
They who will sow the wind shall reap the whirl- 
wind, 
And the eternal law cannot be broken. 
I will not enter on a palliation 
Of my past sins ; for they were great and grievous, 
And though my days have been filled up with 

groanings, 
I feel the stripes were laid on me in mercy, 
The pains we feel in body or in conscience 
Come from some good and wise law violated, 
And it is wisdom for us in our smartings 
To trace betimes the cause of all our troubles 
To their own source, and with the resolution 
Never to dally longer with the evil. 

Why stay I here like to a servile bondman 
And look to death alone to gain deliverance 
And thus to culminate my life of folly? 
How many of my father's hired servants 
Have bread enough and more, while I am starving. 
I left a good land for a land uncertain, 
Shall I not leave this famine stricken country 
For that good land where labor is rewarded, 
Since for a time, at least, I needs must labor, 
Perchance my father will receive my service, 
How sweet to work within that dear old vineyard 
Though I should labor as a common servant, 



24 



How sweet to see the kind face of my father 
Although he speaks to me no word paternal, 
How sweet to be among those dear kind people, 
To enjoy their converse and with them to worship. 

I will arise and go, oh, sweet deliverance ! 

Far from this land of hateful reminiscence 

I would depart although my course was hindered 

By the Arch Fiend, supported by his angels. 

The way is long, and I shall pass through perils 

Before I reach my home and destination, 

But I would go, though brooks were swelled to 

torrents, 
Though sloping hills were changed to craggy 

mountains, 
Although the valleys all were arid deserts 
And wilder and far fiercer were the people, 
I would surmount all things or die attempting. 

I will arise and go unto my father, 

Footsore and naked I shall come into his presence 

And I will say while I am fallen prostrate, 

u Father I've sinned against High Heaven most 

grievous, 
Thou seest thyself my shame and degradation. 
Call me not Son, for I am all unworthy, 
But make me, if thou wilt, thy hired servant, 
And thou shalt find that I will serve thee faithful. 

I will arise and go ; I have a future 
In which to make amends for all my folly, 
And I may bless God in no far off distance 
That He has laid His hand on me correcting. 



25 



THE YOUTH OF DAVID..., 

HPHE sun was set behind Judea's hill, 

His parting rays just laved the woody heights 
And with mild halo kissed the world good night. 

Then came the shepherds with their bleating 

trains 
To their rude folds. Their sheep they marked 
As one by one they enter in, then each 
The entrance bars secure, and watching still 
Abide with them by night. 

High on those rugged hills, the shepherds led 
Their flocks ; deep in the solitude where foot 
Of man sought not to penetrate save when 
The grass failed on the parched slopes below. 
For their flocks' welfare they must needs forego 
The frequent social mingling of their kin 
And kind, and seek companionship (Since man 
Must find an ear to listen to his words,) 
With their own flocks, calling the sheep by name, 
And with their faithful sympathizing dogs, 
Or when the tempest caused the hills to quake 
And the gnarled oak to fall within its path, 
Or when the countless stars shone in the sky 
Or the round moon walked its majestic height, 
Communed as Nature's sons with Nature's God 
And worshipped and adored that hand Divine 
Whose power they recognized, Whose presence 

felt, 
Although His attributes were dimly known. 

Though rude in culture and uncouth in dress, 
Bronzed by the Summer's heat and Winter's cold, 
Judea's youth oft made her hills resound 
With seng and shout, with pipe and harp, 



26 



Accompanied, perchance, with thoughts of God, 
But yet who failed, for want of words to sing 
His praise with psalm and hymn or speak the 

strange 
Emotions of the human heart as the 
Soul sought to rest, e'en as a lamb in peace, 
Watched fondly by a tender shepherd's care. 

But there was one who played the harp that night 
Whom God was training to unlock man's speech 
And give him words to worship and adore 
His Maker, which the soul of man demands 
And 'till then only free. 

Unconscious of his powers or God's decree 
Concerning him, the youthful David led 
His father's sheep by day, and faithful to 
His trust, abode with them by night, 
Youngest of all his father's sons, and scarce 
Remembered as a son at all, more like 
A servant to the man and sons, he was 
Deputed to the solitary hills, 
While his tall brothers followed in the wars. 

As David foldward led his flock that night 
Followed by all the simple happy train, 
His boyish step assumed a measured tread 
And his bright eyes a more imperial look, 
He was a victor marching to his camp, — 
His flock, an army filled with valiant men. 
The rude fold, nearing, soon his dream dispelled 
And his scant supper gathered from the fields 
Touched him as if he was an outlawed chief. 
No hope for him, no means whereby to serve 
His God or king. Philistia kept the field 



27 



And he must live a feeder, only, of the silly sheep, 
Then his tears fell and desolation reigned 
Supreme. 

But now his harp he took, The harp that oft 

Had soothed him in his solitude ; and his 

Light hands but touched the strings, when music 

such 
As David's harp alone could wake and such 
As Angels love, trembled a moment on 
The dewey air ; then all was still, and calm 
His soul. Resigned, he waited only God's behest, 
And hoped in Him alone. 

But hark ! This is not pipe nor harp nor voice 
From human throat, that sends a tremor o'er 
Those craggy hills. The lion roaring stalks 
Abroad for prey, the wolf growls fierce as he 
Pursues the deer, the deer pursued swift 
As the winds doth fly, the owl upon the cliff 
Complains, and the lone heron following, sobs 
And sighs. 

How many a time had David held those beasts 

At bay ! How many a time had scaled those cliffs 

Fearless as the most reckless thing that climbs 

Or flies, and slew the bold intruder e'en 

Within his lair, and snatched from him the prey. 

But now as he recalled his many strange 

Escapes from danger, and appalling death, 

He felt no strength nor might of his had slain 

The growling bear, nor eye of his had led 

His feet aright in his adventures 'mong 

Those caverned hills. 

'Twas God, the God of Jacob surely was 

His God, He had redeemed his soul from death 

His feet from falling and his eyes from tears — 



2 8 



Then heavenward raised his eyes, and with firm 

voice 
He vowed, " Before Jehovah I will walk 
Through all the days that He shall give me life." 

A wonderous scene was that 

Which met the upturned eyes of the fair youth. 

The deep blue of the cloudless sky hung like 

A canopy above the hills, jeweled 

With countless orbs that flashed and sparkled from 

Their distant spheres ; far, far away in that 

Mysterious realm of space. 

"Vast are His works," he mused, " O, then how 

great 
Must that Creator be Who fills not Earth alone 
But Whose law governs the most distant spheres, 
Who holds the heavens aloft, an easy thing ! 
The Earth His handiwork declares, but the 
High heavens His majesty and power supreme, 
And what is man ? How small a thing he is ! 
A mote, yea less, when he is measured by 
The Universe. — And yet how great when he 
Is measured by God's love concerning him, 
But little lower than the cherubim 
With glory crowned, with honor still sustained, 
Yea visited by God all for man's good, 
While he, rebellious, spurned his righteous laws 
And prized His mercies as of little worth. — 
He, He alone is good ! And excellent His name 
O'er all the earth." 

Oft when in later years 

King David sat upon his throne, secure, 

And fed his people Israel like a flock, 

And all was prosperous in his prudent reign, 

He dwelt in rapture on his shepherd life, — 



29 



The canopy of gold above his throne. •„ 
Was not so glorious as the open heavens 
Nor rich perfumes brought far by princely hands 
So sweet as fragrance of uncultured flowers. 
No safer felt he with his mailed guards 
Than when alone, far from all human eyes, 
And then, — when friends proved false and recre- 
ant to 
Their trusts, and earthly goods proved frail, he 

longed 
To fly, swift to the solitude, away 
From cursings and away from cares. 

The same high courage David showed in war 
And the same prudence of his regal reign 
And the same constancy unto his friends 
And the same reverence for his God in Heaven 
He had evinced on Bethlehem's hills, before 
He thought of sword, or crown, or throne. 

He was a child of Nature. Nor could camp 

Nor court lessen his love for Nature in 

Her ruder forms. His psalms attest this fact ; 

The God of Israel trained him for his work 

That he might speak for Israel not alone, 

But for all tribes and clans, peoples and tongues, 

The varied feelings of the human heart. 



JACOB AT BETHEL 

A ND Jacob left his home and went toward Haran. 

Fear lent the exile wings with which to fly 
From his fierce brother's wrath. No pause he made 
In his swift haste, although the way was wild, 
Till the sun set behind Mount Ephraim's heights, 
And shades of night hung heavy on the plain 
(A fitting cover from his wary foe). 
Then took he stones for pillows for his head 
And laid him down in that place for to sleep. 

But sleep, the follower of the quiet mind, 
Of him of even, uneventful life, 
Came not, as when a herder of his flocks 
He lay himself beneath some spreading tree 
And easy walked the land Forgetfulness. 
But now he writhed upon his stony couch 
As the slow hours dragged wearily along. 

At length he spoke, venting his grief in words, 

"And has it come to this, I am become 

An exile and a vagrant in the earth? 

Home, Home, thou blessed name ! How much I 

loved 
That fair, fresh land, in which my years have sped. 
Pleasant to me my simple homely toil, 
Pleasant my simple fare from flock and field, 
Pleasant to me the voice that called me 'Son,' 
Her gentle eye watched well my untrained feet, 
A friend, protector, counsellor in one. 
There did I dwell content nor cared to roam. 
Fair land! I see thee now invested with a charm 
That makes each mean and homely object fair, 
And thy fair scenes, O how exceeding fair ! 
How can I leave thee, Eden, in thy bloom, 
Leave all those scenes in which my heart is bound, 
And wander friendless to an unknown land ? 

3 1 



How the slow hours will drag their lengths along ! 
The days reluctant add them unto months, 
The months to years, yet bring to me no hope. 
Fierce is my brother's wrath ; that fire will burn 
With unabated fury through the years 
Till he shall find and slay me with his hand. 

"And how shall I in that far land commence 
Anew the work of life, with my possessions gone, 
Save this poor staff, reminder of my woes ? 
What can I hope to gain through years of toil 
Save the poor lengthening of a worthless life, 
Rich only in the thoughts of by-gone days ? 
Who there will cheer me as I, brooding, pine 
On my sad state, or help me with a smile ? 
To God I cannot look, for there their gods 
Are idol gods, made by the hand of man 
From things of earth, and impotent to help. 
I cannot speak to Heaven and there be heard, 
For the great God, Jehovah, Abraham's God, 
Isaac, my father's God and father's friend, 
Is there unsought, and he is there unknown. 

How shall the blessing promised me so late 
In me be now fulfilled ? How shall God give 
To me the dew of Heaven, the fatness of 
The earth, plenty of corn and wine ? 
How shall the people serve, the nations bow 
To me ? How shall I e'er become lord o'er 
My mother's sons, and they bow down to me? 
How cursed shall he become who curses me, 
And blessed be he whom I shall please to bless ? 
Dark seems my future ! Dark Thy ways, O God! 
My heart is sick, my hope has wholly fled, — 
Now sleep comes o'er me ! Would that sleep were 
death." 



33 



He slept, he dreamed, and lo ! a ladder set 
Upon the earth, the top reached unto Heaven, 
And thereupon angels of God went up 
And down. And lo ! the Lord above it said, 
" I am Jehovah, God of Abraham, 
Thy father ; I, even I, am Isaac's God. 
The land whereon thou liest, to thee I give. 
And to thy seed ; and they shall be e'en as 
The dust of earth, and thou shalt spread abroad 
Unto the west, and to the east, and to 
The north, and to the south ; in thee and in 
Thy seed shall the whole earth be blessed. 
And lo ! I am with thee and I will keep 
Thee in all places whither thou dost go, 
And I will bring thee back again unto 
This land. I will abide with thee till all 
Has been fulfilled." 

And Jacob waked from sleep, and wondering said, 

" Surely the Lord is in this place, although 

I knew it not." And he was sore afraid 

And said, " How dreadful is this place ! This is 

None other than the house of God, and this 

The gate of Heaven." Then Jacob rose while yet 

The morn was young, and set his pillow for 

A pillar up, anointing it with oil ; 

And which became a mentor speaking through 

The distant years, of God's great mercy 

To his well beloved. 

And Jacob vowed a vow : " If God will be 
With me, and keep me in the way I go, 
If He will kindly give me bread to eat 
And raiment to put on ; so that I come 
Again unto my father's house in peace, 
Then shall the Lord be evermore my God, 



33 



And this same stone which for a pillar stands 
Shall be God's house, and of His gifts to me 
A tenth of all I will return to Him. 

"I now will go my way unto that land 

To dwell among the people of the East. 

The way will open for me as I pass, 

For One will guide me Who will never err. 

No danger need I fear, nor man, nor beast 

Can have power o'er me though they purpose ill, 

Because the Lord, even the Most High God 

Will be around me for my good. 

Joy may be mine while in that land I dwell, 

Compared with which past happiness were tame. 

Have they not human hearts that will respond 

With fervor to the stranger of their kin ? 

Is there not one — my parents will it so, 

I think it is God's will, and for this cause 

I am led hence — that I should take a wife 

Who will become the happy mother of 

A race elect. Will not the rapture of 

That new-found love dispel the bitterness 

Of broken ties, and make the years, though long 

And filled with toil, pass by on silken wings 

So swift that many years will seem but a few days ? 

" I go my way, poor as to earthly goods ; 

The veriest beggar is as rich as I, 

But He Who formed all creatures by His word 

Still claims the wild beasts of the forests His, 

And all the cattle on a thousand hills. 

He makes the vine to grow and yield her fruit, 

The young corn stands dependent on his power, 

And shall not He in Whom all fullness dwells, 

Dispense His bounties as it seemethgood ? 



34 



He wills and brings down princes from their seats, 
And He exalts the lowly to the throne, 
He makes His favored flourish in their ways 
Despite the schemes and plotting of all foes. 
Perchance in that far land to which I go, 
The Lord will bless me richly in my ways, 
And show me many a token of His love, 
An earnest of the glories to be mine." 



THE MONK OF ST. AGNES 

Q THOU Who art the Truth, the Way, 
Forgive my erring thoughts I pray. 

I am so ignorant and weak, 
Some token of Thy love I seek. 

that these eager eyes of mine 
Could see Thy glorious face divine, 

Or that Thy hand on me were laid 
And voice could hear, " Be not afraid." 

1 fain would follow at Thy side, 
And near Thee would be satisfied. 

Canst Thou not in Thy grace arise, 

And draw the vail 'twixt earth and skies ? 

One glance of that fair heavenly scene 
Would make my spirit calm, serene. 

I still shall wait with hope and fear 
Till Thou Who art my Life appear. 



35 



SABBATH BELLS 

T HEAR the church bells ringing 

This pleasant Sabbath day ; 
They call to praise and worship, 
I hasten to obey. 

Welcome the joyful tidings 
That church spires still arise, 
And bells in sweeter concord 
Ring underneath all skies. 

Praises in fullest measure 

To Thee, O God, belong 

Through bells and deep-toned organs 

And all the wealth of song. 

Welcome the blessed Sabbath, 
The one best day of days, 
When Earth comes nearest heaven 
In service, rest and praise. 



36 



AFTER A NEIGHBOR'S ACCIDENT 

r I *HE world is full of dangers, Lord, 

Some case each day I see, 
I know not when the hour will come 
Thy hand will fall on me. 

First I would thank Thee for this life, 

The wondrous life I live, 
And all the blessings of the past 

Thou hast vouchsafed to give. 

And I would thank Thee for the pain, 

For every want and ill, 
For they have made, not marred my life, 

I trust unto Thy will. 

Each day I would begin with trust 
And leave with Thee the close, 

Whether I make my bed in pain 
Or Thou dost grant repose. 

So would I dwell secure in Thee, 

In Thee find my repose, 
Humble amidst Thy favoring smile, 

Undaunted midst life's woes. 



37 



IF THERE HAD BEEN NO CHRIST 

TF there had been no Christ 

How dark the world had been, 
Dark in its social life 
As well as dark in sin. 

Then had we never known 
The Christian Sabbath day 
With all its joy and peace 
In many a helpful way. 

We never should have known 
The merry Christmas morn 
With all its glee and gifts, 
If Christ had not been born. 

Nor Easter with its flowers, 
Close after winter's prison, 
With palms and glad acclaim, 
Had not our Lord arisen. 

We sing His songs in grief, 

We sing His songs in mirth, 

We sing the songs of Christian hope 

With the last rites of earth. 

The social ties that bind us here 
To Christ for Whom we've striven, 
Doth make this world a paradise, 
The anteroom of Heaven. 



38 






THE RESURRECTION 



O 



THOU the Christ, now on Thy throne exalted 
Above all heights of every name and power, 
Wilt Thou accept from us our poor oblation, 
Yet of our best, on this glad Easter hour. 

We think to-day of that great condescension 
From the abode of Bliss to realms of Earth, 
And all the toil and grief thereto pertaining, 
Yet freely borne, and of that humble birth. 

We think of that sweet life, so pure and sinless, 
Of those kind acts, through every passing hour, 
Of loftiest thoughts that were before unspoken, 
Of gentlest words to sinful ones, and poor. 

And last of all, and final consummation, 

The life He gave for an unthankful world, 

Who shrank not though the cross rose just before 

Him, 
Though taunts and jeers should at His name be 

hurled. 

He gave His life — and all the air was darkened, 
And on the earth fell universal gloom, 
W 7 hile but a few, only a few disciples 
Unnailed the form and bore it to the tomb. 

But on the third day, when His friends, disheart- 
ened, 
Came early to bring spices to the tomb, 
They found the great stone rolled away by angels, 
Within they found nought but an empty room, 



39 



Save those bright forms that often hover near us, 
But seen perchance more oft in grief '6r prison, 
Who said, "Weep not, His friends, or be disheart- 
ened, 
Behold ! The Lord ye seek for is arisen." 



Many a day the loved disciples saw Him, 
Many an earnest talk of future work was given, 
And with His last words in a benediction 
Arose above the clouds ascending Heaven. 



i & 



And there He dwells ! and He will dwell forever, 
Not less intent then erst the world to save, 
And He will have His wish and reign triumphant 
As He arose triumphant o'er the grave. 



40 



■* ll ' l <U I >" 



. 



GLORIA IN EXCELSIS 

CUCH love as Thou hast shown 

This world had never known, 
That thou mightest save Thine own, 
Jesus, our Lord. 

That from Thy throne of light 
Invested with all might, 
Thou didst forego Thy right 
As King Supreme. 

And came to Earth abase 
That thou mightest win the race 
From its most woful case 
Made by the " Fall." 

Yea, earnest to Earth and died, 
Wast scorned and crucified, 
Then entered glorified 
Thy throne of yore. 

Thy work has been well done, 
The centuries as they run 
Proclaim the peerless One 
Of woman born. 

Therefore we join the song 
With all the Heavenly throng, 
And would the notes prolong 
" Worthy the Lamb." 



4i 



IN PORT 

"f-J OW strange it seems ! How wondrous queer 
In a world so large, we should find ourselves 
here. 

Tossed to and fro by the tempest drear, 
This haven we've found and safety here, 

Buoyed on these waters calm and clear 

We'll shape well our course ere we go from here. 

To Duties' cause our course we will steer, 

Where Conscience points when we sail from here. 

We must go anon, we have much to fear 
This is no haven to winter, here. 

But ere we go we shall shed a tear 

When we say 'good-bye ' to the kind friends here. 

And then, when the day is bright and clear 
And the wind wails we will launch from here. 

And unto the deep with all good cheer 

Will commit ourselves as we loose from here. 

Hoping a deeper port we may near 
And broader bays than these are here. 

For One is our Father ever dear 

Who will bear us away, Who bore us here. 



42 



THE SNOW 

AS I saw the snow flakes coming down 
Spreading a mantle o'er all the town 
A mantle of white on all below 
My heart rejoiced for the falling snow. 

Changed was the dingy dusty street 
To a carpet of purity 'neath the feet 
And brown bare fields exposed to view 
Were covered all with stainless snow. 

The patient earth defaced and torn 
Cursed for man's sake — what hath it borne 
Thistle and thorn alike lie low, 
Over them gathers the falling snow. 

Beauty and purity ! sweetest of words 

That the language of man affords 

Where in the wide, wide world would I go 

That all should be pure and fresh as the snow. 

Our hearts we must carry where we stray 
And read our thoughts from day to day 
We may not hide them from our view 
Lay them oblivious, 'neath the snow. 

Send to me Lord, the gentle rain 
To wash my heart from every stain 
Cleanse me not, cover my sins from view 
Lest passions melt the garb of snow. 

The snows will come and melt away 
Beneath the sun's refulgent ray, 
While the new life will ever glow 
Purer and whiter than the snow. 

43 



THE BELOVED 

HpHROW open, throw open the window 

And here the sweet sunlight we'll bring, 
With the breeze from over the meadow 
Fresh with the odors of Spring. 

In death I see nought of terror, 
Or ghostly the way to the tomb, 
The way from this world to another 
Is but as a step from a room. 

Her nature tender and trusting, 
Ever gentle and fragile and fair, 
She met the dark angel confiding 
The untried journey to share. 

Her heart overflowing with goodness 
Gushed forth from its fullness within, 
She could walk with the vile and the sinful 
And take no pollution from sin. 

O ! Earth I love thee the better, 
That here may be found on the sod 
With us and bearing our nature, 
The finer touch of our God. 

Peace follow her ! gentlest of maidens, 
Her pathway leads to the tomb, 
Without stain, tarnish or ruffle, 
A blossom plucked in full bloom. 



44 



THE SAILING OF THE WHITE SWAN 

HP HE White Swan left the harbor, 

A goodly ship was she, 
And with her colors flying 
Stood proudly out to sea. 

Again we said our farewells 
From ship and from the shore, 
We bade them bear our greetings 
To friends the ocean o'er. 

Their faces beamed, how brightly, 
Health was every vein, 
Our friendships had been pleasant, 
Our parting without pain. 

Again they signalled farewell] 
Their faces lost to view, 
We waved them back a farewell, 
It was our last adieu. 

We heard sweet strains of music 
Come with the breaker's roar, 
The voice of peace and triumph, — 
Life had so much in store. 

The god of day rolled lower, 
His level rays sent back, 
Then wheeled beneath the water 
Right in the vessel's track. 

O wonderous transformation ! 
That pen hath never told — - 
The sheen, the gilding, glory, 
The wealth of gem and gold 



45 



That overspread the landscape ; 
The clouds, the sky, the sea f 
The mountains felt the presence 
And every shrub and tree. 

We saw the White Swan sailing, 
Her topmasts in the clouds, 
And all her sails were lambent, 
And all her masts and shrouds. 

We saw the clouds divided 
Close to the water's crest, 
And saw the good ship enter 
The country of the blessed. 

We saw the heavenly city, 
The streets were paved with gold, 
And therein saw the Temple 
And riches manifold. 

Then forms appeared less brightly, 
Fair scenes were lost to view, 
But safe we knew was anchored 
The White Swan with her crew. 

The White Swan left the harbor 
Ten years ago and more, 
But never since has anchored 
On any earthly shore. 

Friends waited, hungered, sickened, 
There never came a word, 
The ocean keeps the secret, 
Perchance some ocean bird. 

I think of them translated 
Like that good man of old, 
And entering Heaven and Glory 
All in a flame of gold. 



4 6 



THE CHILD'S VIEW OF AUTUMN 

1IJ0W fierce the wild wind shakes the trees ! 

Out in the storm to-day, 
How wearily the blast sweeps by ! 
The wild scene startles me. 

Mother, this seems not like the world 
The Spring's sun shone upon, 
The time of green leaves, birds and flowers 
When babbling waters run. 

Not one sweet wild flower can be found, 
Turn whiche'er way I will, 
Through cultured fields or densest wood, 
On hillside or by rill. 

But yesterday the sun shone forth 
Unclouded from his throne, 
The sky wore not an angry look, 
No gale was heard to moan. 

Perhaps, I thought, the frogs do pipe 
Down by the willow tree, 
And wild with joy are welcoming 
Spring's first sweet glorious -day. 

I hied me to the same rude seat, 
The same moss covered stone 
Where long I listened in sweet spring 
By the wild wood alone. 

No sound whate'er did greet my ear 
No life sound from the pool, 
Nor ripple rose or bubble broke, 
All silent and dull and cool. 



47 



At night instead of pleasant sounds 
Wild cries come from the wood, 
And savage yells and piercing screams, 
Curdling my very blood. 

What means it that the somber calms 
Like that of yesterday, 
So soon give place to driving storms 
Wide over land and sea ? 

Why is it that the leaves turn pale 
And then fall to the ground, 
And all the fields look brown and bare 
Where green did once abound ? 

My cage bird sings not half so sweet, 
His plumage not so gay, — 
I know if he were free to roam 
He too would fly away. 

Death, Death has thorough done his work, 
All things are in decay, 
Gloom settles over all the land 
Silence on all I see. 

But yet you say the spring will come 
And leaves grace every tree, 
And flowers spring fragrant from the ground 
And soft winds from the sea. 

In this I dare not trust the thought, — 
I can not now believe 
In brighter or in better days, 
However long I live. 



4 8 



Since all Earth's loveliest forms are hid 
Far from my searching eye, 
Were it not that you love me so 
I too would wish to die. 

I cannot fathom this great world, 
Too intricate and deep, 
I'm lost ere I can trace it through, 
I'm weary and would sleep. 



RESPONSE 

CLEEP, thou young warbler, 

As innocent and pure as they, whose well 
Remembered songs thou longest so much to hear. 
Sleep on, my sweet, and fairies guard thy rest, 
Bring to thy mind visions of peace and joy, 
Of summer's rosy form, verdant with leaves, 
Of waving fields stirred by refreshing gales, 
And flowers, the sweet wild flowers, O strew them by 
The brooklet's bank, — there would I lay the scene, 
My child's resort, — make the clear waters laugh, 
Kissing the narrow banks, while far and near 
From the soft grass to mighty forest trees, 
From the low marsh to the surrounding hills, 
Comes up the voice of song and melody, — 
Yea, all, all living things tune your best songs 
And in one grand and swelling chorus join. 
" Fear not, sweet maid, we will ere long come back 
Speed in our wings and joy in every track." 



49 



To-night, no doubt, in far off southern climes 

The feathered tribes hold their gay festivals, 

'Neath skies as mild, 'mong fields as freshly robed 

In their attire of green, as ours in May. 

They have no fear of the great storms that range 

Tumultuously our hills and devastate 

The plains. They had escaped, yea, happily 

Had left ere the first omen of the storm 

Glowered in the west, while yet the air was warm 

And the tame winds but lightly stirred the leaves. 

Wondrous the instincts in God's humble hosts 
To serve their ways of life. How know the new 
Fledged birds that safety lay in flight to lands 
Remote? Who points to them, so sure, the way 
In the dark night and under cloudy heavens, 
A land congenial to each lowly life ? 

I stand before Thee awed, 
O Thou unfathomed One Who leadest birds 
Aright, and hast a place for the repulsive newt 
In Thy great scheme of life. And yet with all 
Thy care and pride of works, — Thou didst pro- 
nounce 
All good — O why ? Why all this death in life ? 
The fairest forms and best are not immune 
From the fell Reaper with his sickle keen. 

Like thee, my child, I fail and stumbling fall 
E'en at the threshold, when I'd find out God. 
His ways are in the sea ; and in dark clouds 
His purposes are hid. 

Yet I would rest content in the strong arms 
Of Love, assured that had I higher powers 
I'd know that an Eternal Spring will come 
And all be well. 



5o 



BE THOU A SONG BIRD 

To 

HpHERE is an ancient legend 
A That the Christ Child, one day 
Made in His play a song bird 
Out of the common clay. 

Then in His eager rapture 
Bade it arise with song, 
And cheer the fields and hamlet 
Through all the Summer long. 

A child of the same Father, 
Brother of that dear Son, 
Thou mayest do work as mighty 
As the Christ Child has done. 

Make of thyself a song bird 
In this thy human clay, 
To sing in Summer's sunshine 
And in bleak Winter's day. 

The world needs much of brightness 
Of innocence and song, 
Of gentleness and kindness 
Amidst its sin and wrong. 



CHERISH THE BEAUTIFUL 

\\7"E toil from day to day through all our years 

Where'er we wander, whither we are led 
How many an anxious thought we give ! How 

many tears 
O'er the great problem "How shall we be fed," 
While little thought we give and little care 
For the rich treasures round us everywhere 
In this world beautiful. 

We see the rich grass grow, and waving grain, 
We see our sleek herds as they graze, afield, 
And look upon them with an eye for gain 
And pride ourselves on an excessive yield 
Of such material things, the fair scene 
We prize too little when our hills are green, 
The landscape beautiful. 

See with what grace kind Nature clothes the trees, 
How numberless, and gorgeous are the flowers, 
How gay and lively all the birds and bees 
As they flash forth among the leafy bowers, 
Why all this wealth of color, grace and song 
Through all the long days of the Summer long 
But for the beautiful ? 

Shall we with all the world around us fair 
With tastes responsive, if we will behold, 
Give all our time, and energy and care 
To gain our bread ? or baser still, our gold 
While the kind Author bids us but look up 
And He will pour rich sweets into our cup, 
Even the Beautiful. 



Not at the first will He the chalice fill. 
Things of rare worth, come only through the years, 
But we may daily quaff sweet draughts, and still 
Find the cup filling, sparkling, while it cheers, 
This is the draught, for which the sages sung 
To make the young face fair, and old age ever 
young. 
The Pure and Beautiful. 

Come then worn toiler, muckworm of the ground 
Look to the hills, and higher, still, the skies, 
Yea, in your labors, ever look around 
Think, thou, the thoughts of Him, the Great 

All-wise 
Who made the world, and all within it good 
Not all for raiment for mankind, and food, 
But made all beautiful. 



AUTUMN LEAVES 

pLOWERS of the fading year! Since other 

flowers, 
Children of sunshine and the showers are gone, 
Their petals closed, ere the imperious storm 
Beat in wild fury o'er their quiet bowers. 
These will I bind, and they may well adorn 
Those rooms that in soft Summer hours 
Were graced with blossoms of the mead and lawn. 
(Much do I prize them and adore their power — ) 
Thrice are these welcome, since that frosts and 

storms 
Bring out the riches of their varied dye, 
And pictured Time with lean and stooping form 
Improves, then mars them as he passes by. 
Well for our lives if they may still glow warm 
And grow more beauteous ere we fall and die. 

S3 



A STROLL 

I AM in from a stroll this morning 

Through woodland and flower-decked grove, 
Where I dwelt on the glories pertaining 
To spring, the sweet season of love. 

Ah! many a gem of wisdom 

Have I learned in those sylvan bowers, 

Even birds are charming instructors, 

We may learn from ferns, mosses and flowers. 

In those rambles the thoughts turn upward 
Unto Him Who made them, above, 
To the giver of all our mercies, 
E'en to God, the fount of all love. 



TO DR. POND 

{A Sonnet) 

T-l ONOR to him, and peace his ways attend 

Who, when his step was firm and arm was 
strong, 
Fought for the right and e'er opposed the wrong 
And lived and labored for a noble end, 
Who, while life's candle now more dimly burns, 
Whose failing powers of solemn days portend, 
Yet for the good with the same ardor yearns 
As w r hen he fought and when he did contend. 
They who build well will see their work survive 
When they do rest them from their arduous toil 
And see their work advanced, and others strive 
Until the structure rises fair and tall. 
Long may our leader live with strength to pray 
For that good cause he prospered in his day. 



54 



AT THE SEPULCHRE 

r\EAR mother, since thy resting place 

Will be henceforth in Earth's embrace, 
This calm and pleasant spot 
Shall be the one for which we yearn, 
The one to which our thoughts will turn 
Till all else is forgot. 

With filial hands we rear the stone 

That marks this place so much our own, 

Through all the coming years, 

While pain and loss shall mark our way 

Onward, unto our dying day, 

Joy not unmixed with tears. 

May Heavenly angels guard thy rest 
And gentlest, kindliest forms and best 
By thee be felt and heard. 
And thou awaken from thy sleep 
So gentle, so profound and deep, 
At the first falling word. 

Those gentle hands, or weak, or strong, 

Have labored for us all so long, 

So well, as child and man. 

While love was wrought in every seam, 

And true love prompted every dream, 

And tempered every plan. 

While we, unthinking oft, and rude, 
In every phase of childish mood 
Grew lithesome, glad and strong, 
And made the dear old farm house ring 
With song ; for we were born to sing. — 
Glad and spontaneous song ! 



55 



O, precious days ! O golden years ! „ 
How sweet, how blissful all appears ! 
Our own dear childhood's home. 
While ever foremost in the scene 
There stands Her Majesty, the Queen, 
Her loyal kingdom come. 

Broken that paradise. Long since have none 
Only the stranger, trod the old hearthstone. 
But the loved dead remain, 
And some kind neighbors that we loved of old. 
The church is here that gathered in the fold — 
The mountain, lake and plain. 

Sleep midst the scenes thou ever lovedst the best, 

Calm thy repose and plentiful thy rest, 

Waiting until the morn ; 

Till He Who comes in lightning from the skies 

Shall call, and every saint asleep will rise 

As unto life new-born. 



A NOVEMBER EVENING 



T 



HE shades of night fall early, 
The clouds are cold and gray, 
A pall of mist comes sweeping 
Out from old ocean's way. 

The mist that palls the landscape 
Casts on my heart a gloom, 
And shadowy forms seem sweeping 
Out from old ocean's tomb. 

Thou who by time made dearer 
My chosen one, my bride, 
Come, when the storm clouds gather, 
More closely to my side. 

Come, but come not with music, 
For me it hath no charm 
To chase away the shadows 
Or medicine or balm. 

Come, but come not with converse 
Or gentle, grave or gay, 
Thy voice, sweet as the throstle's, 
I would not hear to-day. 

Come with your fond caresses 
And place a hand in mine, 
And soothe this throbbing temple 
Near the good heart of thine. 

Then let the storm clouds gather, 
Or mists or phantoms ride, 
I'll rest amidst the tumult 
Of earth and oceantide. 



57 



DETHRONED 

npO-DAY the good farm passes 

Into a stranger's hands, 
The house, the barns, the meadows, 
And all the pleasant lands. 

The good home rendered sacred 

By many a thousand tie, — 

I leave it all too quickly, 

With a tear I have said " good bye." 

To-day I have looked my farewell 
On the fair scenes, one by one, 
Nor ceased in the sad leave taking 
Until the setting sun 

Sank low behind the mountains 
And twilight cast a gloom, 
When Earth seemed full of shadows 
Earth's flowers without perfume. 

Twelve years ago this morning 

We made this place our home, 

The landscape smiled upon us 

And the sun from heaven's blue dome. 

A home, a home in the country ! 
Away from the city's strife, 
To dwell near the heart of Nature, 
That seemed for us most of life. 

And so we bought the old farm 
Soon after we were wed, — 
John who was bred a scholar, 
And I who was gently bred. 



58 



And here we poured our savings, — 
A good round pile of gold, — 
The house was old and rumbling, 
The meadow wet and cold. 

But we built, removed, remodelled, 
Till our ideal stood, 
Then we gazed with pride upon it 
And called it very good. 

And John subdued the meadow 
With many sturdy blows, 
Till all the land's a garden 
And blossoms as a rose. 

The bills, they came upon us 
As fierce wolves for their prey, 
But we smote the foremost of them 
And kept the rest at bay. 

'Twas work, but our hearts were youthful, 
And we ever paid our dues, 
Lessened the mortgage yearly, 
Bought some good things to use. 

Some books of the standard authors 

Some music that we loved, 

Some magazines and papers, 

To tell how the great world moved. 

And so we loved and labored, 
By slow degrees we rose, — 
Not o'er crushed hearts and bleeding, 
Not over fallen foes. 

One day the firm step faltered, 
And ere we were aware, 
No human skill could save him, 
No tenderness or care. 



59 



For as the sun sinks downward, u 
Swift in the crimson west, 
So sank his strong form downward, 
Unto the grave — and rest. 

He died as the warrior dieth, 
With his armor buckled on, 
In the midst of life's great battle, 
The victory almost won. 

He fought with as great a valor 
As those who have gained a crown,- 
His life was as pure and noble 
As Arthur's of old renown. 

And yet he has died unnoticed, 
And will forgotten sleep, 
Save by a few, — his dear ones, — 
Perhaps it's for this I weep. 

Bloom, flowers in the fields around him, 
Sing, birds in the trees above, 
Little he'll need men's plaudits 
If only he have your love. 

And I, like poor Carlotta, 
And Eugenia the fair, 
Shall leave my home and empire 
In grief but not despair. 

For George I must train a scholar, 
And trust that he will choose 
An easier, gentler calling, 
Where merit has its dues. 



60 



. 



ARE THEY NOT MINISTERING SPIRITS? 

fOME, angels, pure in garments white, 
And bide around this couch to-night. 

The sufferer labors on his way 
And may not reach another day. 

Beyond our aid our boy has gone 
And walks the untried way alone. 

Come, then, swift messengers of light 
And let him feel your presence bright. 

Let him recline on some fond breast 
And find a solace there and rest. 

And — if the soul shall leave the clay 
Go with it on its heavenward way. 



TO MY WIFE 

it 

DEC. 25, 1898 

IVTY love to thee I bring 

On this glad Christmas tide, 
A richer, truer love 
Than offered thee, a bride. 

E'en then I thought I knew, — 
But only knew in part, — 
The meekness of thy mind, 
The graces of thy heart. 

I thought I knew thy love, — 
But then not understood 
That love so pure, so strong, 
Seen in best womanhood. 

That love has been my boon 
Through all the passing years, 
Warm as the orbs of light 
And constant as the spheres. 

In it I've found my rest, 
My comfort and repose, 
'Neath adverse winds of fate 
And all the storms that rose. 

Thy love has made me strong 
To suffer and endure, 
Sure of one loyal heart, 
If need be, doubly sure. 

Pain, dear, has been thy lot 
So much ! through all the years, 
But cheery words were thine, 
And smiles, instead of tears. 



62 



A life so pure and sweet, 
Unselfish and serene, 
Is rare in human form, 
Thy peer I have not seen. 

Such lives may tell, I ween, 
More for their Savior Lord 
Than many active years 
With voluble word. 

So ever live and love 
As the dear Lord has willed, 
Thy task when done meseems, 
Shall have been will fulfilled. 



63 



IN MEMORIUM, — HOSEA DOTON 

ONCE when a sage, who was about to die 

Reviewed his life work, in the days gone by, — 
Thought on his hopes, his labors, cares and fears 
That came on trooping to him, through the years — 
Thought on some good deeds that his hands had 

done 
And of more efforts scarcely but begun ; — 
Bewailed the limitation of his powers, 
Wept for the opposition to the good that towers 
So prominent within the lives of men, 
And makes one's efforts often seem in vain. 
And then — "Oh, no, 'tis not a grand career 
The blare of which doth reach the dullest ear 
That is a test of worth ! A loving heart 
Prompting the man to do his every part 
In life, in sweet submission to that Hand 
That placed him here, and Who his life's work 

planned, 
He, he, though humble, he shall be the one 
To be yet cheered by the glad words ' Well done.' 
If friends shall o'er my mound some marble raise 
To tell when I was born and length of days, 
Chisel no deeds of mine that I have done, 
They seem so small, viewed in life's setting sun, 
Engrave this only with the iron pen 
Beneath my name : ' He loved his fellow men.' " 

Upon another marble soon to rise 
We trust in fair proportion to the skies, 
Tribute to his true worth, yet once again 
Write o'er that gentle heart and teeming brain 
Now hushed in death, his name and length of day, 
And when he came and when he went away ; 



64 



Write o'er his grave, for it is true again 

We knew him, all — "He loved his fellow men.' 

Add but one line in simple justice moved 

Sculptor add " By whom he was beloved." 

His name we cherish who on life's highway- 
Travels the even tenor of his way, 
His eye fixed wisely on the wished for end, 
But who will stop ofttimes that he may lend 
Aid to the weaker ones, now pushed along 
And crushed too oft by the unfeeling throng, 
They save their lives in sacred memories' shrine 
Who give their lives in acts of love sublime, 
They loose their lives who flying do contend 
With flying men to gain the better end. 

What shall I say of him we held so dear? 
Is there a fitter tribute than a tear? 
As I look backward through my falling tears, 
Back through the flight of the revolving years, 

1 see him, still, the calm and thoughtful man 
Guiding his pupils in a pathway plain, 
Teaching them well and ably from the book, 
And still impressing them with that wise look. 

I've travelled, somewhat, in the world since then 
And seen full many of our foremost men, 
Studied with those who easily will stand 
Among the foremost teachers of the land, 
But of the many faces I have seen 
I know no kindlier or more thoughtful mien. 



65 



I know full well that to the untaught mind 

Things trivial, small, and of the meanest kind 

Seem great unto the vision. E'en a few 

Square leagues of land, and the o'erarching blue 

Seems a great world ! The hills of awful height, 

His burg a mighty mart, and in his sight 

The low red schoolhouse set upon a hill 

The highest type of architectural skill, 

While the mere tyro who doth hold the rule 

The wisest head that ever taught a school. 

But there are those who're born and reared in 

sight 
Of some bold mountain's wildest, dizziest height. 
And there are those whose youthful feet are led 
By those of gentlest heart and clearest head. 
The first will find that wheresoe'er they roam 
No grander views than in their childhood's home, 
The others' hearts, where'er their feet may wend, 
Will still go back to teacher and to friend. 

A certain orator of ancient fame, 

And his will ever be a classic name, 

Urged upon all who'd think and talk sublime 

To give a goodly portion of his time 

In contemplation of celestial things, 

And the wise Tully bids the thought take wings 

Oft to the heavens above ; that thus the mind 

Become more broadened, and be less confined, 

And such will think and act, that sage declares 

" Grander and abler in all life's affairs," 

So will the man be more and more in soul 

With Him Who guides the Universal Whole. 



66 



So came he by that grand and thoughtful mien 
That all observers surely must have seen, 
And by his step ; as if his feet had trod 
Within the secret chambers of his God, 
So by his words that strangely would inspire 
Within the minds of youth, ambition's fire, 
So came he by his love to the great God 
And all his creatures on terrestrial sod, 
And so his faith, submissive and resigned 
To the All-Wise and All-Controllmg mind. 

His eyes are closed, and evermore that great 
And noble heart will cease to palpitate, 
But yet his influence will long remain 
Upon the lives and characters of men. 



6 7 



CHARLES HENRY VAUGHAN 

AND there has passed us in the great procession 

A rare and blameless life, — 
Serene and brave amidst all life's allotments — 
Calm in a world of strife. 

Yet was his life not one of mere retirement, 
A recluse with his pen, 

Who, from the loop holes of his study window, 
Looked on his fellow men. 

He walked with men ; and constant intermingled 

In many business ways, 

So delicate, that e'en an inadvertance 

With some, would cause a blaze. 

He did the work that was committed to him 
With conscientious zeal, 

And though his duties made him seem exacting 
All those who knew him, feel 

That he was lenient in the fullest measure 
And kind beyond compare, 
That many a burden that belonged to others, 
Himself did freely bear. 

His sympathies were large and all embracing 
Where'er his knowledge ran, 
And quick was he to further enterprises 
That made for God and man. 

Yea, love, Love was the mainspring of his being, 
Through it he toiled and won, 
And gained through it our deepest, best affections 
Long ere his work was done. 



68 



OUR COUNTRY 
Bangor^ Dec. 8, 18/4. 

pTAPPY are we that on this day 
We breathe the air of liberty, 
Happy our stately flag unfurled 
Is honored over all the world. 
That peace and concord now prevail 
O'er all the land the giant flail 
Of iron hate no more, no more 
Threatening is raised on either shore. 

Land of our love ! Oh, who dare say 

What shall thy future glories be, 

When like a giant thou shalt stand 

In all thy strength and might ? A land 

Rich in her soil, various her climes, 

Rich in her quarries and rich in her mines. 

Within our bays great fleets may safely ride 

Bidding defiance to the wind and tide. 

While our broad rivers rolling to the seas 
Bear on their breasts rich freighted argosies, 
Or, when diverted from their natural course 
From over rocks, where erst their wild, hoarse 
And sullen cadences, revealed their power 
Turn great mill wheels nor seek an idle hour. 

If thou, my land, still in thy youthful band 
Mayest now among the proud old nations stand 
Erect, and now by force assert thy right, 
Who shall resist thee when in all thy might 
Some decades hence thou speakest? What nation 

stand 
Before such foes whether on sea or land. 



69 



Though we do lore thee, yet that love were vain 

Did we look only to fair hill and plain, 

Or to our lofty mountains forest crowned 

Or our rich mines deep underneath the ground, 

Or our long rivers or our tranquil bays 

Or growing cities or industrial ways. 

Not in great armies do we wish to boast 

Nor ships of war defiant on our coast, 

Nor in the teeming millions that shall be 

Should they be men unworthy to be free. 

Nature has lavished with as liberal hand 

Her gifts, perchance, on here and there a land 

As on our own : rich soil and genial skies, 

Here a fair vale, and there bold mountains rise, 

And yet no exile thither longing turns, 

Nor the oppressed, but for our land he yearns, 

Where loosed from shackles and from bondage 

free 
He may regain his heaven given liberty, 
Freedom to think and freedom to express 
His thoughts, and wrongs seek to redress, 
Freedom to rise and liberty to tower 
As high in social scale as kingly power, 
We welcome all, and give an open door 
To rich, the wise, the ignorant and poor, 
Welcome as brothers, that both we and they 
May ever dwell in closest sympathy, 
And may we seek unitedly to be 
Champions for truth and a large liberty. 






7 o 



All honor, then, to those who toiled and prayed 
And the firm base of our Republic laid, 
Honor their principles as well as deeds, 
Honor their God, for we have yet their needs. 
The base our fathers laid must still remain, 
It has upheld us through the darkest rain, 
No vandal hand may bear a stone away 
Nor dare to touch one with impunity. 

We have our duties, a great work to do 
What was begun each age must still pursue, 
Train up our children in fair virtue's way, 
Teach them to value highly liberty, 
Teach all to fear and love their Heavenly King, 
Sing of His mercies, of His bounties, sing. 

So may our mines their richest treasures yield 
And our large harvests gladden every field, 
Our mill wheels whirl industrious through the day, 
And our large commerce whiten every sea, 
No sectional ailment to be redressed 
No brawls or mutinies to be repressed, 
Learning and Liberty and Law and Love 
Dwell in each hamlet wheresoe'er we move, 
Such, my loved Country thou shouldst ever be 
Until all nations pattern after thee. 



n 



NEW ENGLAND 

XTEW England ! Native hearthland ! 

The Pilgrim trodden West, 
The home of our forefathers, 
The soil in which they rest. 

Prayer hallowed land, I love thee 
With more than natal pride, 
As thou has been, forever 
Continue to abide. 

Nursery of men ! I give thee 
A title richly won, 
As brave, and true and noble, 
As e'er the world has known. 

I see her sons far scattered 

Wide over all the Land, 

And where they plant their footsteps 

They rise and firmly stand. 

Be it our joy forever 
To send the glad song forth, 
New England's sons are equal 
To the best men of earth. 



72 



- ■ ' — — Mi ^ 



NEW ENGLAND THE LAND OF THE 
PILGRIMS 

T~*HE northern air is crisp and clear, 
Deep lies the Winter snow, 
The leaden stars look grimly down 
On the bleak world below. 

A million homes now dot the land, 
With cheerful fires aglow, 
Nor reek we though the snow lies deep 
Or biting tempests blow. 

The blessings of a fruitful year 
From fertile farms are ours, 
Our barns and cellars burst with cheer 
The wealth of sun and showers. 

The school bell calls our children forth 
From every vale and hill, 
A ruddy, cheerful band they come 
To drink from learning's rill. 

Ten thousand churches, volumes speak, 
Their white spires rising high, 
Of love, and trust, and hope in Him 
Who dwells beyond the sky. 

I see our classic temples stand, 

Deep their foundations lie, 

The years but add new grace and strength 

As they go sweeping by. 

O prosperous people, happy state ! 
The nations wondering stand, 
How great and marvellous thy growth 
From that lone Pilgrim band. 



73 



They stepped upon our frozen scores 
Weary with long delay, 
Before them rose the cold gray wood, 
Behind them rolled the sea. 

They came, a few brave, humble souls, 
And on a new world trod, 
Rich, only in their zeal for Truth, 
And reverence for God. 

Think of that half-fed, half-clad band, 
Through those cold Winter days, 
Without protection from the storm 
And the fierce wild man's ways. 

Ah, many a sufferer lay down 

In his last sleep to lie, 

Ere the first mayflower oped its sweets 

And soft winds wafted by. 

Time passed ; and other vessels came 
That brought them friends and store, 
When homes were built and lands were tilled, 
And hope revived once more. 

Still, hardships ever were their lot 
And dangers evermore 
For adverse Fate seemed bent with Hate 
To drive them from the shore. 

Yet, midst their poverty and pain, 
Too dreadful e'en to view, 
The schoolhouse and the house of God 
With their own houses grew. 



74 



j-soMi 



Without the aid of kings or courts 
A nation 'gan to grow, 
That e'en an army could not stop, 
A kingdom overthrow. 

They went forth, weeping, sowing seed, 
Most precious seed they sowed, 
The children reap the golden fields 
Where'er the Pilgrim strewed. 

In cheerful homes, round blazing fires, 
Still let the tale be told, 
We cannot laud their deeds too high 
And virtues manifold. 



75 



VERMONT TO HER RETURNING 
CHILDREN 

CONS of Vermont returning 

From Fame's and Fortune's quest, 
Accept our kindly greeting, 
Come to our homes and rest. 

We've followed all your labors, 
We've joyed in each success, 
Our love for you is greater 
Than our best words express. 

You've made Vermont stand lustrous 
In all the land abroad, 
You've helped to swell the reverence 
For the Vermonter's God. 

You took right torches with you, 
Kindled from natal fires, 
With wills firm as our mountains, 
A zeal that never tires. 

We who remain behind you 
And keep the hearth fires bright — 
(That takes our best endeavors 
Our souls, our minds, our mights'.) 

Are glad of larger openings 
To Wealth, to Fame, to Power, 
In which our sons may enter, — 
Are entering every hour. 

And in return we ask you, 
For your good birth and dower, 
Not to forget your homeland 
But aid her in your power. 



76 



Aid her as you are able 
In things that make for Truth, 
Help to enlarge the vision 
Of those who are in youth. 

So shall Vermont stand peerless, 
The purest and the best 
Of all her brilliant sisters, 
The queen state of the West. 



AN ODE 

CTREW flowers o'er the fallen heroes, 

Sweet flowers, where the patriots lie, 
We prize the more their valor 
As each year passes by. 

We love the land they saved us 
Through toil, and pain, and tears, 
On battlefield, in prison, 
Through those four bloody years. 

We'll guard the land they left us, 
And the same flag they bore, 
We will defend as stoutly 
As those brave men of yore. 



77 



DEWEY AT MANILLA 

Q 'TWAS a famous fray, 

y On that fair morn in May, 
When Dewey won the day, 
In that old Spanish bay 
Of fair Manilla. 

When out of night arose 
A fleet of vengeful foes — 
Ready to give hard blows — 
His plan of battle chose 
In old Manilla. 

Then burst forth shot and shell, 
As from the mouth of Hell, 
With deadly aim and well, 
Till all Spain's colors fell 
In proud Manilla. 

Comrades if in the fray, 
For which we fight and pray, 
Peace comes with long delay, 
Remember Dewey's way 
In famed Manilla. 



78 



THE FAME OF WASHINGTON 

HpHERE stand the mountain peaks, huge massive 

piles 
That rise in grandeur, towering to the sky, 
Secure, majestic, calm, there they repose 
As the years flee and centuries pass by. 

But of those mighty peaks that wall the East, 
There stands serenely forth the noblest one, 
And all his fellows seem as dwarfed beside 
That grand old form ; the famed Mt. Washington. 

Like his great namesake, 'mong the eternal hills, 
Our annals bear no name, can hope for none 
Whose fame will rise as high, or rest as sure 
As that grand man's, the kingly Washington. 



79 



BOSTON 

JS^ LOVELY city by the sea, 

Mother and nurse of Liberty, 
So clean and active, strong and grand, 
How fair you look, how firm you scand. 
I love to walk in idle hours 
And view her bulwarks and her towers, 
And feel her great heart throb and beat 
With such vehement feverish heat. 

There grim and sullen stands a fort, 
One of the few that guard the port ; 
Their heavy guns trained far to sea 
And looking fierce and threateningly, 
While martial men train and parade 
Sanguine upon the esplanade. 
And there big warships anchored, sleep, 
Their giant forms upon the deep. — 
A word, and they will straightway fly 
Where men will dare, if need be, die. 

Here fleets of commerce anchored, lie, 
Their masts, a forest rising high, 
And busy men unload the store 
From all the world upon the shore, 
Or outward driven by steam or wind, 
A hundred craft of every kind, 
Do many a costly cargo bear 
To lands remote, or ports anear. 
The life, the joy, the zest I ween 
Makes fair an ever-changing scene. 

Hark, with a whistle, rush and roar, 
The steam cars halt upon the shore ; 
And from the gateway open wide 
Add ever to the human tide 



80 



That swirls and rushes through the street, 
A mass of eager, hurrying feet. — 
What had you done, — O Traffic, say ! 
Had you pursued your ancient way ? 
Had not your Titans launched forth 
Their transit schemes above the earth ? 

And later still, a mighty feat ! 
Planted the subway 'neath the street. 
Now freighted cars go dashing forth 
Upon, above, below the earth, 
And though the cars seem demon driven 
With all the aid of science given, 
The eager throngs would haste before 
To reach the office, home or store. 

Here massive stores contiguous lie 
And seem almost to reach the sky 
Their facades show the artist's hand 
And all that Wealth and Taste command, 
While costliest goods placed in display 
Dazzle the mind's eye e'en by day. 
I marvel as I see displayed 
Such evidence of mighty trade, — 
While ever more I see the flow 
Of men and women onward go, 
Earnest and purposeful and fair 
With graceful step, and high bred air. 

Great is New England's greatest mart, 
Let him be glad who bears a part, 
Yet 'tis not in the open street 
Wherein her mightiest forces meet, 
Within her walls and silently 
Is being wrought her destiny. 



AT THE MANUFACTORY 

r "pHIS is the factory, a fine large building 

Close by the river as we near the town, 
With its tall chimneys, still forever yielding 
Their clouds of smoke, from fires that go not down. 

I see the rushing of the mighty waters 

That leap the dam and hasten to the sea, 

And the pent stream, like Titan's sons and 

daughters, 
That turn the great wheels of the factory. 

I hear the murmuring of a mighty emprize, 
Of wheel and lathe, of hammer, forge and drill 
Now rising high then sinking lower, dies 
In pleasing cadences within the mill. 

I enter by the office and, before me 

See men with visions keen and high renown, 

The Captains of a mighty Industry 

Whose enterprise has largely made the town. 

I see the clerks engaged in correspondence 
With every state and lands beyond the sea, 
And can but note the system and concordance 
Of rapid figures and dexterity. 

I see the artisans with subtile fingers, 
Deft in their work with lathe and forge and drill. 
One well may pause and wonder as he lingers 
To see the product of consummate skill. 

And last of all, for man is more than metal, 
I note the fellow feeling and good will 
A rare kind influence so sweet, so subtile, 
That makes for harmony throughout the mill. 



82 



It is for this I praise you, great Employers, 
Who build so well in metal, wood and stone, 
That you are not of those who are destroyers 
Of them whose welfare is so near your own. 

Reach out your strong arms in the fields of Com- 
merce, 

And grasp new realms by courage, strength and skill, 

While your glad workmen still shall proudly re- 
hearse 

Their happy lots, whose homes are near the mill. 



83 



AFTER AN EVENING WITH LONGFELLOW 

C WEET be the rest of the poet 

Now that his work is done, 
Green be the grave where he lieth, 
He has the laurel won. 

'Tis well the people crown him, 
And he will wear that crown 
As the years in a long procession 
Go steadily moving down. 

His tales of love and sorrow 
Will be read as the years go by, 
As long as the heart has pity 
And tears bedew the eye. 

We shall sing his gentle lyrics 
When the twilight settles round, 
While the heart is yearning, longing 
For the good it has not found. 

'Tis well the children love him, 

How fain would he place their feet 

In pleasant paths and peaceful, 

And their lives should be pure and sweet. 

Ah, well he felt how keenly, 
That with mountain path and thorn, 
Too majny a foot were bleeding 
Out from the gate of morn. 

His tastes were the cultured scholar's, 
With a love for the pure and fair, 
But a somber form unbidden 
Oft sat by his study chair. 

We read, and shall read his poems, 

And well we may read the whole, 

They are tender, and sweet, and thoughtful, 

Though sad in their tone to the soul. 

84 



AMERICA 

TO 

KING EDWARD VII 

£DWARD the mighty king 

Accept the love we bring 
The tribute that we sing 

Is from the heart. 
We come thy name to bless 
May health and happiness 
Be thine, and great success 

Who worthy art. 

Thou of the Royal line 
Issue of Kings divine 
The crown is rightly thine 

Reign thou in peace. 
Rule fair Brittiania's land 
And India vast and grand 
And with a gracious hand 

Thy Colonies. 

Let Justice guild thy reign 
Throughout thy wide domain 
Let no wronged man complain 

Of thee the State. 
But list to all the cries 
As they ascending rise 
Before they reach the Skies 

And griefs abate. 

So shall thy realm increase 
Thy glory never cease 
And all the arts of Peace 

Will fruitage bring. 
While men thy name will bless 
With all true heartiness 
And will implore success 

For thee O King. 



A TALE 

[ AST night I was troubled and in sore distress, 

For I'd labored long and without success 
To compose for my manuscript four more lines, 
Four lines in the anapest meter with rhymes, 
Or rather endeavored to clothe a thought 
In the style and meter in which I had wrought 
Eight stanzas already ; the which alone 
For a fortnight had stood, nor a sentence had 
grown. 

I had turned and had twisted the English tongue, 
And many a change in the words had rung, 

Still faulty the meter or faulty the rhyme, 
Or feeble the language, or all at a time. 

II It is vain, it is useless," at length I sighed, 
" Longer to bother, so long have I tried, 
My piece to perfection I never shall bring, 
However fondly and blindly I cling." 

Then thought took a different turn on its wings 

From fancy's flight 'mong hidden things, 

And I said, " Why thus do I bother my brain, 

Grow weary and haggard beneath the strain ? 

To-morrow shall witness my sheet in the flame, 

In its ashes I'll bury all thoughts of a name. 

Yea, thoughts will I hold with an iron rein 

If ever they fall to rhyming again. 

Good-bye to thee, Muse, thou hast tempted me long, 

Far in the regions of Fancy and Song ; 

Thou hast led to destroy, I will break from thy 

power, 
My rescue I'll date from this dark midnight hour " 



86 



And yet a feeling of sadness came 

That spread like a blight and covered my frame, 

As I turned to my pillow, to seek repose 

In sleep, blessed sleep, the balm for all woes. 

I slept ; if my waking was one of pain, 

Of clouds and darkness and dripping rain, 

My sleep was as calm as an Eden morn, 

With roses and fragrance, and never a thorn. 

I slept. O, who can tell by what means 

We picture in sleep such wonderful scenes ? 

Hush ! A sound to my ear the night wind brings 

A flapping sound as a sound of wings, 

And the air borne back from its onward course 

Gave a low, soft sound like the music of verse. 

To my door one alighted, when, lo, behold ! 

My cottage was changed to a palace of gold. 

High, broad and expansive the structure became, 

Like castles of old and buildings of fame. 

I saw it crowned with turret and dome 

And furnished exceeding a prince's home. 

He entered my study. Did I ever presume 

For such a guest within my room ? 

As soft fell his feet on the marble floor 

As the breeze of the night on the ocean shore. 

Very grave was his step, and grave his tone, 

I remember his words, each and every one : 

" I am the Muse ; with me belong 

The power of fancy, the gift of song ; 

My home is the fair elysian blue, 

My wanderings extend the wide world through, 

And every nation, every tongue, 

Have felt my power, my songs have sung. 



87 



Yet chary am I where I bestow, 

None know my worth and may not know. 

I am the sun, like him I shine 

By mine own power, my light divine. 

Yon satellites reflect my beams, 

Your light from the fair fountain streams, 

While in degree you feel the ray 

With more or less intensity. 

"Thee have I called; and in thy name 
Will give the world a potent flame ; 
Fear not the labor, nor the field 
And thine shall be a bounteous yield. 
And thou must write ; I thee inspire 
With lucid, high, poetic fire. 
Those high-born passions of the soul 
Struggling to break from thy control, 
Bound as a prisoner with a chain, 
Will give, I warn thee, greater pain, 
Will more corrode the man and mind 
Than all my labor, thou wilt find. 
Here is a scroll I bid thee take 
And keep it ever for my sake. 
Study it well, it will unbind 
And bring all needful things to mind." 

I reached forth to grasp what was nothing but air, 
And thank the kind donor, but no one was there. 
The sun was arising, his long slanting beams 
Shot through the shutters in bright golden streams. 
The night had departed, the morning was come, 
My senses were real but passed was my gloom. 
My cottage was still the cottage of old, 
Nothing was new for mine eyes to behold. 



88 



No outward change, but an inward light 
Flashed on my brain and is burning bright. 
While the lines I had waited and worked for so long 
Came with the ease of an old-time song. 
The poem is finished, not in ashes consumed, 
And despite an oath my pen is resumed. 
A rash oath sworn in an evil mood 
Could not stand the rush of that mighty flood. 
Many a bard, or weak or strong, 
Has invoked the aid of the Muse in song, 
Well aware that the spirit that guides the pen 
Lay not in the power or command of men. 
I pretend to no titles, the poet's a name 
I will not seek for, or honors, or fame , 
But long on my memory brightly will gleam 
What was more than a dream, was more than a 
dream. 



8 9 



RESTLESSNESS 

(~)H, why am I compelled to keep 

A silent watch, while others sleep, 
And note the slow hours as they creep 
Snail-paced along. 

I, like a prisoner in a chain, 
Do writhe upon my bed in pain, 
Waiting, but waiting all in vain 
For Morpheus' call. 

The busy world is on my brain, 
I do the day's work o'er again, 
And life's events, a mighty train, 
Come crowding on. 

I form new schemes, alluring, grand, 
Which speciously would seem might stand; 
And yet I build upon the sand 
A castle's walls. 

And knowing this I close mine eyes, 
Thinking of many a maxim wise 
By which to tempt sleep in disguise ; 
A vain attempt. 

Till with a sickly strength I feel 
My muscles knit to cords of steel, 
A heart to dare, an arm to deal, — 
Strength of despair. 

Essence of care ! The heavy load 
That I have borne on life's high road 
Doth press upon me as a goad 
Forbidding sleep. 



90 



'mm 



I've labored long to win the prize, 
A name to dazzle the world's eyes, 
A bauble costly for its size, 
A life of toil. 

Hard through the day, long in the night, 
By the bright orb and flickering light, 
Have still pursued, and with my might, 
One aim alone. 

I, who so often have repressed 
Kind Nature's sweet and soothing rest ; 
She comes no more at my request 
But truant flies. 

Till heavy with the weight of woe 
I may not any farther go, 
She then her cloak doth o'er me throw 
But grudgingly. 



9* 



SCHOOL DISCIPLINE 

'T*HE pedagogue said, "You've lied," 
To the urchin that stood by his side, 
" To deceive me a long time you've tried, 
That you might stand by the side 
Of scholars whose foreheads are wide, 
Well cultured with study beside, 
While you and a few evil- eyed 
After fast horses would ride, 
Or down on the ice you would slide. 
I've talked and you've ever denied, 
I've reasoned and you have replied, 
I now will humble your pride 
And teach you a lesson beside." 

With arms spread far and wide 

Like lightning the strokes did glide 

Upon the poor urchin's hide, — 

To count them I failed, though I tried, 

(The scourge was the string of a hide 

Both strong and effectually tied 

To a hickory thoroughly dried). 

By my guess forty stripes were applied 

Before that he whimpered or cried, — 

When he begged for a while to be tried 

He might be severely eyed 

Yet no fault in him be implied. 

Then the strong arm fell to his side 
His voice to a gentler slide, 
" Oh ! It is not easy to chide, 
But my rules you must not o'erride. 



92 



si! 



I now will give for your guide, 
And for all who hear me beside, 
A rule with much wisdom supplied : 
' Where'er in the world you reside, 
Whate'er in the world betide, 
Though in fortune's fair car you do ride 
Or a wander afoot you do stride, 
Let honesty still be your pride, 
Do all that you do as if eyed 
By a world that is ready to chide, 
For each duty that is misapplied, 
And be, ever be, and abide, 
Ever be as vou seem outside.' " 



93 



HOW BENJAMIN RIX BECAME 
GOVERNOR 

D ENJAMIN RIX at forty-six 
Was in a most unhappy fix, 
Four small children to be fed, 
And no way of earning bread, 
Had no cash to buy their shoes, 
And the poor man had the blues. 

He had tried to live by books, 

And his very goodly looks, 

Then the highway two years trod, 

Agent for the lightning rod. 

Then he got out printed bills, 

And he made and sold his pills 

That would cure all human ills. — 

Poor he was and poorer grew, 

All the neighbors tell you true, 

And he knew not what to do, 

What was wrong he thought he knew. 

So night by night, by candle-light, 
He affirmed with all his might — 
In the tavern, in the store, 
Rang the changes o'er and o'er — 
Reasons why the times were hard, 
Why so high were eggs and lard, 
Why the poor man should be poor 
With the rich so near his door. 
It was this and it was that, 
" Twas the dreadful Democrat, 
O the good old times of yore, 
Shall we ever see them more ? " 



94 



" But," said Ben, " I'll try again — 
We're not driven to our den, 
It shall be this time the hen, 
Think I will begin with ten, 
Work awhile and see what then — 
Think I may invent a way 
How to make a small farm pay." 

So he bought of choicest blood, 

And he studied on their food, 

And he felt exceeding good, 

As any honest worker should. 

When one day not far away 

Twenty new and fresh eggs lay 

In queer boxes in the bay. 

Benja looked with mouth and eyes — 

Who would not? — his great surprise, 

Yet withal a trifle wise, 

As he gathered up the prize. 

"Guess I've hit a little bit 

Of good fortune that will fit, 

And profit me in my estate — 

'Twere bound to come though it came late. 

Yet I'll wait another day 

And see what happens in the bay, 

Perhaps I'll have a little say 

In the store not far away." 



95 



Every day, for quite a year, 
Twenty eggs would still appear 
Whether warm or whether drear, 
Whether damp or whether clear, 
As a never failing cheer. 
And the people oped their eyes, 
Looked with wonder and surprise, 
Some said, " Tis one of Ben Rix' lies, 
He can't fool us if he tries." 

But a wit, a wag, a clown, 
Let the babble fill the town, 
Said he'd seen, day after day, 
Twenty eggs brought from that bay, 
Then aside, "And I know how, 
It will cost me my best cow, 
But it's food to see him swell, 
Hear the stories he will tell, 
See the dupes ope wide their eyes 
Show their wonder and surprise. 
Yes," said he " I get my pay 
In good instalments every day, 
I may let the secret lie 
In my bosom till I die." 

"Now," said Ben, "since I've a prize 
It were best to advertise ; 
And I think I'll have it read 
So that all will see and heed, 

1 Plymouth Rock 

Improved stock ; 
Hens will lay 
Two eggs and even more a day ! 

Eggs and chicks 

At B. Rix'. 
You should buy his Standard Food 
To improve your present brood.' 

96 






I would have a cut with a cock 
Crowing proudly on a rock, 
But my mortal fear is that 
They'd take me for a Democrat, 
And think I'd voted 'long with Pat.' 
But the orders came in broods — 
I had almost said in floods, 
And he filled them day by day, 
Filled his pockets with the pay. 

Now it chanced in Granger town 

Crops were poor and prices down ; 

That the farmers met one day 

To devise a better way 

How to make their farming pay, 

Every talker had his say. 

Then uprose our prosperous Ben, 

Said, " There's profit in the hen 

If you keep the proper stock, 

(He preferred the Plymouth Rock.) 

If you feed the biddies right, 

Keep their houses warm and tight, 

Give them air and give them light, 

As any careful farmer might." 

Then he gave the food and cost, 

Spoke of how some fowls were lost, 

Figured up the total gain ; 

It was good, and all seemed plain. 

Then 'rose one Professor E 
He was of the State A. C. 
Asked about the Standard Food ; 
Since for fowls it proved so good 
And a whole year's test had stood, 
Might one feed it to the cow 
With a double lacteal flow ? 



97 



" I do think so, Mr. E, 
I shall solve it, all shall see, 
I am sure that I am now 
On a process that will show 
Startling wonders from the cow. 
Soon from only one cow's milk 
One can clothe his wife in silk ; 
Yes, I am most free to say, 
Farmers are to have their day." 

Then the man alert with quill 

Heard the ripple of the rill, 

Thought he heard the torrents roar 

Only a short way before. 

So the County Trumpet came 

Out pronounced for Ben Rix' name 

As a candidate for fame. 

" Let him very soon be heard 

As a member of the Board. 

There is now a vacant place 

We elect him to the race." 

So the Governor heard the word 

And he placed him on the Board. 

Then he travelled long and late, 
Up and down, and through the state 
The good folks to educate. 
He proved ready in debate, 
And his heart it was so great 
One might rarely find its mate. 

And he talked of fowls and feeds, 
And he talked of herds and breeds, 
And he spoke of famous steeds, 
Of the many kind of weeds, 
Of the care in choosing seeds. 
Spoke of men and gallant deeds. 



98 



Then he had his little jokes 

For the many funny folks, 

And his stories he could tell, 

Oft repeated, O so well. 

So he won almost all hearts 

By his arts or want of arts. 

With the men 'twas " Honest Ben," 

With the women " Man of men." 

So it came, though it came late, 
He was Governor of the State, 
And he waxed exceeding great, 
Though he quite forgot the date 
And the man that fixed his fate. 

But the wag, the wit, the clown, 
Said, " Men go up, and men go down, 
Some bear their shovels, some a crown, 
What a bubble is renown ! 
It's too late for me to frown, 
I will let the secret lie 
In my bosom till I die." 



LefC. 



99 



THI STEW DAIRYING OF JOHN; WOOli 

T'M a plain, common man, by the name of John 
X Wood, 

I had done pretty well, it was so understood, 
And had almost paid for a very good farm. 
The house was kept tidy, the barns neat and warm, 
I'd a herd of nice Jerseys, not thoroughbred cows, 
The hay filled two spacious, accessible mows. 
The milk was delicious, the butter was sweet, 
And packed in plain boxes, simple and neat, 
Which sold for good prices year after year, 
And never a fault-finding word did I hear. 
No happier couple e'er travelled in life 
Than I and my excellent, lovable wife. 

But the wave of Progression once struck our town 
And rolled in great billows threatening to drown 
The "fossils" and " mossbacks " who nothing- 
would learn. 
And so, as we all had a living to earn, 
New methods, new knowledge, we must have on the 

farm, 
A possible lack entailed probable harm. 
And as we were farmers, and dairying the rule, 
We went in good force to the new dairy school. 

There we learned of bacteria, we learned of the cell 
Of disease in the milk, and of death in the well. 
There were microbes galore and millions of germs, — 
Till I was muddled and mixed in all of the terms, 
And whether 'twere microbe or whether 'twere Boer 
I hardly could tell in that wordy downpour. 



100 



Only this : that whether in barn or on hill, 
Those creatures were stubborn to conquer or kill. 
But when the Professor with feeling gave vent 
" To keep clean ! To keep clean ! " we knew what 
he meant. 

Now as I'm a plain and practical man, 

I hastened me home, and my labors began, — 

But first I met my good wife at the door, 

And I earnestly said, "There's disease on the 

floor, 
On the walls, in the water, alack, and the air, 
And Death lies a-crouching like a beast in his lair." 
Then I spoke of bacteria, microbes and germs, — 
And managed to get in a few Latin terms, — 
How they'd revel and thrive in the milk and the 

cream 
And multiply faster than one's wildest dream. 

" Now as we're for business, and business I mean, 
We must keep our new dairy perfectly clean. 
There must be no odors, no flies, and no dust, 
I mean what I say, there certainly must. " 

But May, — how I wronged her — looked so sad 

and amazed 
And rightfully thought I was cranky or crazed 
As she said, " You know, John, we had prospered 

before, 
And I fail to see such harm at our door, 
But I'll aid you and help you as ever I've done 
In all of your projects ever begun." 



101 



I hustled and bustled from barn to the house 
As wild as a bedbug, as spry as a louse, 
And evermore pondered the "whys" and the 

" hows " 
I could equal the barns, and the State Dairy cows. 
But, you see, I soon found as my labors began 
I needed the help of a strong hired man. 
Of course I must have such utensils and tools 
As they use with success at the State Dairy 

schools. 

But which ? The agents soon found me and tried 
All their arts, which were legion, and oh, how they 

lied! 
Till at last, all bewildered and to get me some rest, 
I bought, though I knew not which was the best. 

Well, I seemed to prosper quite well at the first, 
And I thought, with some pride, I was pretty well 

versed 
In the art; so I talked very glibly at home and 

the store, 
With my friends, of the "butterfat," the "test" 

and the "score." 

With my wife 'twas "bacteria," "microbes," and 

"germs," 
And I made them appear like horrible worms. 
" The dairyman now must be thoroughly skilled, 
Some microbes must live and some must be killed." 

But once on a time, all astounded, I read, 

From my dealer in butter, a letter that said, 

" Off flavor ! Quite poor ! You will please bear in 

mind 
And send me no further grease of that kind." 



102 



And then how I fumed and fretted and fussed, 
"I must find the cause, I certainly must." 
Was it in the feed, in the air, or the cows ? 
Could it be in the barn ? Was it not in the house ? 
So I asked all so brusquely — I know I'm a boor — 
What I'd asked her, perhaps, forty odd times be- 
fore, 
Whether she'd thoroughly scalded the pails, 
"The outside, the inside, as well as the bails." 
While there, just before me, every one 
Stood polished like mirrors right in the sun. 
As it was at the first, 'tis ever the same, 
"The woman Thou gavest me, she is to blame." 

Then May fairly wilted and burst into tears, 
The first I had seen in all of our years, — 
Next morn, as she weak and helplessly lay, 
So pale and so worn, she begged me to stay 
By her side and read as of old from the Book, 
And I saw in her eyes a far-away look. 
Then I said, " Other things have I learned 
Than how cows should be fed, and cream should 

be churned, 
There are errors, grave errors all through the Word. 
Where could you have lived and never have heard ? 

Then she said, " I'm so sorry, but never you fear, 
I'll destroy every one if it takes me a year." 
You see she'd confounded my bacterian terms 
And thought that the Book had dangerous germs. 
" But, John," she said sweetly, " don't hasten away, 
Let us talk of the past, of a happier day, 
When the fields were so fresh and the sky was so 

blue, 
And the stars were so bright, and so soft fell the 

dew. 



103 



And the flowers were so sweet in the garden and 

dell, 
And so cool was the water drawn from the well. 
When we saw the nice things, and had nothing to 

fear, 
And lived very happily many a year." 

Well, the fever ran high for a week, and she died, 
And I shed my first tears, all too late, at her side, 
Then my troubles came thick as vultures for prey, 
5 Twas " Pay for past contracts, please hasten and 

pay." 
Till, vexed beyond measure, I made me a vow 
I would pay every bill if it took my last cow. 

So now I've no wife to brighten the house, 
And I have my barns but no nice Jersey cows. 
In exchange I have gained a few dairy rules 
And a very good set of unused dairy tools, 
But had I the peace and the purse as of yore 
I'd not play the crank or the fool any more. 



i«4 



I DARE THE STORM 

Y/U'ILD is this Winter night, 

The Storm reigns in his might, 
To-day he asserts his might 
And rules with iron hand. 

How cold o'er this bleak hill, 
Horror the air doth fill, 
'Tis sighing, moaning still 
From wind and swaying trees. 

Not one of man or beast 
Dare face the furious blast, — 
A howling, lifeless waste — 
I roam the wild alone. 

Ten long miles I have tread, 
Twelve more stretch out ahead 
That I must travel, ere I'm led 
To friends and to warm fires. 

I'm weary, I am weak, 
For rest my limbs bespeak, 
Earth pillowing my cheek, 
Wild screeching winds o'erhead. 

Sleep ! Sleep ! Then would my visions end, 
In sleep, where no dreams e'er attend, 
'Tis Death with chilly hand 
That's calling after me. 

Shall I return, or on ? 
So far I now have gone 
In this wild waste and lone, 
Retreat were vain. 



°S 



Friends warned me of the storm, 
Of danger and of harm, 
" You're young and slight, your form 
Lest morn you ne'er shall see." 

"This day," I cried, "was set to go, 
I've waited too long even now, 
However cold the blast may blow, 
It shall not reign o'er me." 

"It shall not reign," I said, 
What courage and now sped ? 
I'm nought without the aid 
Of that fire which's within. 

Away, thou coward fear, 
There's no place for thee here, 
The thought brings pain severe 
That I have harbored you. 

The morrow morn shall find 
Me safe from storm and wind, 
And praises warm and kind 
Will shower on my brave head. 

Who cares for the raging storm ? 
It never can me harm, 
While this fire burns within so warm, 
Ambition's lurid fire. 

Then wild winds shriek in woe, 
Pale moon withdraw from view, 
Despair let cowards know, 
I scorn the name of fear. 



06 



APR 19 1904 



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